


Widow's Kiss

by TrickyvsWords



Series: Love Bites (And Stings) [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Grinding, Intoxication, Mildly Dubious Consent, Morning After, Recreational Drug Use, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27448708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyvsWords/pseuds/TrickyvsWords
Summary: You’re left alone with Mark after his birthday party, both of you a little inebriated. Things get a little out of control and the tension between you snaps, but will it be for better or worse?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/You
Series: Love Bites (And Stings) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005417
Comments: 15
Kudos: 107





	Widow's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in a very long time, please be gentle with me.

The party had finally wound down, the early morning hours approaching as the last guests head home, only you and Ethan left idling around and helping Mark clean up some of the mess left behind. The three of you were in various states of inebriation, there had been some alcohol and there had definitely been several people passing around a joint or two; Your head pleasantly fuzzy from having partaken in both. 

You’re puttering around picking up red cups and setting pillows back onto the couch when Mark comes back into the living room, flopping down onto the couch you were almost finished re-arranging. You tsk at him and toss the pillow in your hands at him, getting a grunt in return as it hits his stomach, looking up at you with hazy and bewildered eyes.

“What was that for?”

“I was just about to finish fixing the couch you dork, and you went and messed it up again.”

He gave you a cheeky grin and held his hands out to the side lazily. “I mean - it is _my_ house, and _my_ couch. I think I’m allowed to mess up my own stuff.”

You were about to huff out a response when Ethan walked in, stack of cups and bag of garbage in hand. “Heeeyy, I’m all done. And kinda dizzy, actually. Definitely a little drunk, how ‘bout you guys, you guys feelin’ it?” Mark leans back against the couch cushions and gives a thumbs up. 

“You know it, bro. Got a little bit of that stanky danky kush, and I’m feelin’ perty good.” He draws out the end of his sentence with that silly voice of his and you start giggling a little under your breath, unable to contain your laughter under your own intoxication.

Ethan giggles along with you for a minute before telling Mark he’s headed out for the night, and you hear the sound of him tossing the collected items in the trash as he passes through the kitchen. You flop down on the couch near Mark with a sigh and lean back, staring up at the ceiling and debating lighting the joint in your pocket. 

You glance over at Mark and nudge him with your knee, a small smile on your face. “Hey, happy birthday.” 

His answering smile as he turns his head to look at you makes your heart stutter just a little, and you try to tamp down the errant streak of affection and want blooming in your chest. He didn’t know it of course, but you’d always harbored a bit of a schoolgirls crush on him. You kept it pretty well hidden, brushing off your feelings and remaining his friend, because at the end of the day you’d much rather keep him in your life as a friend than risk ruining it by telling him how you felt.

“Thanks. It was really nice to have people over for something other than recording videos for once.” His mouth opens and closes briefly like he’s going to tack more on, but he goes quiet for a moment before muttering, “This buzz is kinda wearing off faster than I thought it would.” He sounds almost disappointed.

You fish out the joint you’d been thinking about along with a lighter and hold it up, wiggling it to catch his attention. “I do believe I have the answer to that problem, my friend. Care to join me in one last hurrah?” His toothy grin is more than enough of an answer; So you sit up and place the end of the rolled paper between your lips and light it, taking the first hit before passing it over to Mark.

Most people didn’t think Mark would smoke pot, and he didn’t do it often. Honestly, you’d only ever seen him smoke with one or two of his friends, you included.

Watching him as he takes the blunt from your fingers and puts it between his own plush lips before pulling his own hit makes your stomach flutter, and you know it’s not just the pot making you giddy. He passes it back to you, his longer hair falling around his head as he drops it back again, making your fingers itch with the desire to card through it.

You take another hit instead, allowing your mind to get fuzzier instead of focusing too much on the handsome man beside you. It doesn’t _exactly_ work, but it does make it easier to not get worked up about it.

The two of you pass the joint back and forth for a little while, occasionally making idle chatter about the party or your various individual recording ventures, but mostly just enjoying the companionable silence as the time passed and the smoke hung low in the room. Your speech slowed as time wore on, bringing conversation to a near halt.

He might complain about the smell lingering tomorrow, but for now, he seemed happy enough to partake with you.

Eventually though, all that was left was a slowly smoldering stub that needed to be put out, discarded easily in the almost empty cup on the coffee table, a soft hiss the only sound as it went out. 

Leaning back on the couch, you couldn’t remember when Mark had gotten so much closer to you, his arm across the back of the couch behind you, and his legs spread just enough that his leg was pressed into yours. Mark was always joking with Ethan about not touching him, but Mark was actually a somewhat touchy guy. 

He liked to be near his friends, even if they weren’t explicitly touching, but you could admit it wasn’t entirely expected. You could only assume in your hazy thoughts that it had to be because of the pot. 

His hand met your shoulder and you jumped the tiniest bit, not expecting it while your mind was so far away. “Hey. Quit thinking so loud, you’re practically shouting you know.” A soft snort of a laugh escaped you at his comment, but it was short lived as he tucked you closer to his side. You chanced a glance over at him, wondering why he was being so touchy with you all of a sudden, and catching his warm brown eyes on you; That subtle upturn of his mouth a sure sign of his teasing nature.

“I am most certainly not shouting, thank you _very_ much. I am simply having a professional lecture.” That earned a laugh from him, his arm tightening over your shoulders. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the contact, honestly.

He sighs and suddenly starts to shift, pulling you with him to lie on the couch tucked in next to him, panic briefly filling your chest before settling in. Thank goodness he had such wide cushions on this thing, or else one of you might have fallen off.

“You’re really comfy, you know? Soft and warm. You make a really nice pillow.” The comment catches you a little off guard and you giggle at first. 

“One of my many excellent qualities, of course.” You tilt your head up to look at him, smile on your face and his arm curled around you. It wasn’t the first time you’d cuddled up with Mark, but it wasn’t a common occurrence. What you weren’t expecting was to see his eyes glued to you, something you couldn’t quite place shimmering in his eyes, and his smile was gone; Replaced by something more serious, determined even. Your smile fades and your brows furrow in concern. “Mark? Is everything...okay?”

He didn’t answer you in the form of words, just gave a short nod after a long moment, his hand raising to brush your hair behind your ear. You had several other questions on your tongue, but none of them would come forward, afraid you’d ruin the moment, whatever it was. “You’re just...so beautiful.”

You really weren’t expecting him to lean in and kiss you.

The moment his lips met yours, he groaned and you gasped softly, shocked by his sudden display, but you didn’t push him away. Your judgement was being clouded by the alcohol and the joint you’d shared, and his surely was, too.

But you’d wanted this for so, so long. Could it really hurt to give in? 

You let all other thoughts fly away as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on to him as he deepened the kiss, pressing his body more fully against yours, and you were sure you could feel him half hard against your thigh. It only spurred you on.

Mark shifted his hand to the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair and cradling the back of your skull, tilting your head for just the right angle and pulling just a little to get you to gasp again; And when you did, he snuck his tongue past your lips, darting in to taste you, groaning as you pressed your tongue against his in return.

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you either when he pulled his tongue back a moment later to bite at your lower lip, earning a growl in response that made your body flush with heat and your hips roll into him. His free hand slid down your exposed side to grab at your hip, fingers sliding over your ass, and down your thigh; Reaching behind your knee to lift your leg over his hip, and oh, you could _definitely_ feel his erection, now.

He was rock hard against you, and the knowledge made you moan into his mouth, a sound he swallowed up hungrily before leaving your mouth to press kisses and nips to your jaw, following the line of your throat to your collarbone. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. You taste even sweeter than I thought you would.”

You can’t help but flush at his declaration, squirming in his hold as he sucks a bruise onto your collar. “Ah- M-Mark, _fuck_ …” There’s more you mean to say, but it never comes out, as Mark is now rolling you to lay beneath him, caged in now by his strong arms as he hovers over you. His eyes are so dark, boring into you like he wants to burn this memory into his mind forever.

“Say my name again.” He’s watching you hungrily, and you can’t help but obey him when he uses that deep, serious tone of voice.

“Mark...Kiss me again?” Your voice is soft, timid, but you don’t stutter and you’ll take that small victory. He leans in closer, but stops short of meeting your lips and you whine beneath him, but he doesn’t budge.

“If you want me to kiss you again, I think you should ask a little more nicely.” You feel heat suffuse your body once more, unsure of the feelings coursing through you as the dominant streak you’d theorized about made itself known in him.

You’re powerless against it, so of course you do as you’re told. 

“I- please...Please Mark, kiss me. Please, _plea-_ ” You don’t get to finish your sentence as he finally meets you again, kissing you like he’s trying to steal the breath from you. One of his hands is back to cradling your head again, and you can feel him tugging on your hair just enough to make you feel it. He rocks his hips down against you and you spread your legs for him, moaning into the kiss when his weight presses into you, and your core _throbs_ when you feel how hard he is, pressing right against your center.

You break the kiss, swearing and winding your arms around his chest, nails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt; Stars bursting behind your eyelids as you squeeze them shut and he grinds down against you harder. “You like that, sweetheart? Can you feel how hard I am for you right now?” You choke out a moan as he presses into you sharply, and you’re certain you’ve soaked through your underwear by now.

His chuckle against your throat does terrible things to you, and you roll your hips up to meet his, desperate for friction and desperate to feel him against you as much as you can. You’re not certain if this is real or just a really good pot-fueled dream, but you want it to last and you want it to be good. 

Mark slides his hand down your side to pull your leg up again, allowing him to press more fully against your wet center, and you want so badly to strip and feel him inside of you, but he seems to have other plans. His mouth is against your ear suddenly, ministering a little nip to your lobe, and then he starts talking again.

“Look at you, so needy for me. You want it so bad, don’t you honey?” You can only bite your lip and whine in reply. He just laughs again, and you swear he’s getting off on teasing you. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll give you something, but not what I _know_ you want just yet.”

He shifts his hips again, and it gets better somehow. Now you can feel just how big he is right up against your slit, pressing into you just right, and you let out the most shameful noise, right in his ear. Your nails dig harder into his back and he _growls_ , bucking up against you harder, faster.

You whimper and whine, clinging to him like you might drown if you let go, rocking back up against his thrusts as well as you can, climbing closer and closer to your peak. It’s muted compared to what you really want, but it feels so, so fucking _good_. 

Mark lets go of your head to prop himself up instead, looking down at you, watching your expression twist as you get closer to climax; Leg still hitched around his waist to keep you open for him as he ruts up against you. 

“That’s it angel, come on…” Oh god, you want to come so badly.

“Mark, oh _fuck_ I- _Mark_ ,” Your cunt is throbbing, clenching desperately around nothing and so dangerously close to the edge of climax. Your hands tighten on his shirt, gripping desperate fistfuls of it just to hold onto something.

There’s a kind of menacing glee on his face, and you realize he knows exactly how close you are, god it’s so painfully _hot_ , and you don’t know _why_.

He leans forward, spreading his knees to brace and balance himself as he lifts your other leg around his waist, hitching your hips up and changing the angle to make you see stars as he bears down on you. 

“Go on, sweetheart...Come for me, come on. Let me see you come apart for me.” His voice is dangerously low and raspy, and you can’t help but want to obey him. It only takes a few more seconds of your grinding before the coil in your belly snaps and heat spreads through you, fingers tingling from the force of your orgasm. It’s not quiet, and you’re glad it’s just the two of you in the back of your hazy mind.

Mark isn’t far behind you, groaning gutterally and hips stuttering against you as he comes in his jeans, cursing under his breath before slumping forward, careful to keep his weight mostly off of you. You don’t mind it anyway, his bulk pressing you into the cushions grounding as you try to catch your breath.

After a minute or two of quiet panting, Mark rolls you both onto your sides, cradling you in his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin. He doesn’t say anything, but that’s okay, you’ve worn yourself out and now seems like the perfect time to fall asleep.

* * *

You wake up to the glaring light of the morning sun streaming through the blinds, lifting your arm to cover your eyes immediately. You groan and sit up, rubbing the sleep and mild hangover from your eyes, glancing around blearily. 

The events of the night previous begin to snake their way into your mind, though they are pretty hazy at best. You pause as you realize that Mark is nowhere to be seen, and the cushions beside you aren’t warm. 

Was it a dream, then? It had felt so real, though.

You stretch and move to get off the couch, grimacing as you realize your panties are quite wet, and very uncomfortable for that fact. A wet dream, then.

Making your way to the bathroom, you pass the kitchen, Mark standing at the stove making what smells like eggs, possibly pancakes if the large bowl is any indicator. He doesn’t seem to hear you, so you go along about your business and head to the bathroom.

You finish peeing and fish out the spare brush you leave here from under the sink, something you’ve learned to do after nights like the previous and long or rowdy collaborations. As you untangle the nest that is your hair, you notice a discoloration under the collar of your shirt and frown. What the hell is that? 

Placing the brush down, you hook your finger under your collar and tug it down, eyes widening in shock.

Right under your collarbone is a large, mouth shaped bruise, mottled and purple.

It takes a minute for the cogs in your brain to work hard enough to realize that yes, last night was real, and yes, that really actually happened and it wasn’t just a really vivid wet dream.

But...why hadn’t Mark been there when you’d woken up? 

You shake off that thought, having just seen him making breakfast for gods sake. You tell yourself you’re being silly, and finish fixing your appearance before making your way back out to the kitchen, covering the mark carefully once more.

Mark hears you this time, turning his head and greeting you with his familiar smile and disheveled hair. “Mornin’ sleepyhead. You sleep okay out there on the couch?”

You smile back and nod, leaning against the counter beside the stove and watching as he flips a pancake perfectly. “I’m a little stiff and sore, but, y’know. That’s to be expected after last night.” 

You think your implication is obvious, but Mark’s answer throws you for a loop.

“Yeah, we sure did party hardy. I’d have offered you a bed, but you crashed out there and I felt bad about waking you up, so I just let you stay there.” He doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, but he sounds genuine, and that confuses you more than anything.

If last night hadn’t been a dream, why was he acting like it didn’t happen?

It dawns on you that you’d both been quite high, and maybe...maybe Mark hadn’t really wanted to do that with you. The thought makes you queasy.

“Right, yeah. Lots of booze and all that. Listen, I’ve uh- I’ve gotta head out, I forgot I had this appointment I need to get to.” You blurt out the excuse, no longer hungry or interested in the food Mark is making.

He looks a little surprised, but he shrugs it off easily. “Oh alright, that’s cool. You want me to pack some of this to take with you?” He sets the finished pancake on the plate already stacked with a handful and pours more batter.

“No, no, thank you though. I appreciate it, but I really have to run.” You gather up your jacket and your keys, pausing before you leave. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Mark nods at you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and waves the spatula at you. “Yeah, see you ‘round. Drive safe.”

You smile back, forced and trying to hide the hole quickly forming in your chest, and try not to run out the door, ignoring how hard your heart seems to be beating against your ribs. You’re quick to slide into your car, backing out nearly as soon as you’re in and the keys are in the ignition, hands shaking just a little.

You’d fucked up. You’d _really_ fucked up. 

It takes all your resolve not to let the tears threatening your vision fall, you’ll do that once you’re safe at home, but the hollow feeling in your chest won’t dissipate, and you wonder if you’ll actually see Mark again now that things are awkward.

If only you’d just gone home after the party ended.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I'm so sorry, but I promise this isn't the end, I have a second part planned, so if you enjoyed this, please let me know!


End file.
